I'll be around when every candle burns down lowAnd I want you, I want you to know...

One day Spike woke up with a soul. No moment of happiness
after a Buffy boink a la his grandsire, just a bloody loose eyelash. A sodding
wish on a sodding eyelash and TA DA, faster than you can say washboard abs, he
had a bloody soul. He remembered all the bad things he did, and he felt bad.
Real bad. Right crummy. Especially about the whole pimp daddy chain phase he
went through. He wanted to go and apologize, but all his victims were, well,
dead. Plus, now that he had a soul, he wouldn't bloody eat people anymore.
After a few intense minutes of thought he shrugged and started watching the
telly. Then after another few minutes Spike began to panic. Buffy would never
love 'im if he didn't wallow in misery over past vampiric sins. But HOW??

Suddenly he grinned. Only one person who could teach 'im....

*******

"Pay attention!" Angel smacked Spike on the head
because he was too busy changing channels to find Passions.

"Ow! Bloody 'ell, you big POOFTAH." Spike said.

"Look, you came to me to learn how to redeem yourself.
How to atone. Now that you have a soul you have to learn this stuff."

Spike sighed and lit up a cigarette. The puffy poofter had a
point. Spike had come to L.A. with an offer Angel couldn't bloody refuse. Spike
would become Angel's personal trainer if Angel would show him how to brood
broodily whilst helping his fellow man. Or woman. Or kitten stuck up a tree,
whatever.

"Okay, first things first. Hair gel." Angel rushed
over to his dresser and opened a drawer, revealing a full range of hair
products.

"Now, this stuff..." Angel pulled out a blue
plastic bottle and spoke seriously. "This is Dippity-Do. Cheap as hell,
easily accessible. Use this for day-to-day stuff, especially if your business
isn't doing really well and you need to save money."

Spike gritted his teeth, but nodded.

Angel grinned like a dork and held up a hand. "Now,
this... THIS stuff..." He pulled out a white jar. "This is Sebastian
pomade. Much better consistency and scent than your average drugstore brand
hair gel. This is the creme de la crop. Here. Try some. Be gentle with it.
Watch me." Angel took a glob and started playing with his bangs. As he was
lost in hair gel bliss, Spike rubbed his eyes, annoyed. Cor, he thought to
himself. Granted, his own peroxide fixation wasn't exactly normal either, but
this was bloody ridiculous. And he was missing Passions. For this. Bloody,
sodding, stupid soul!

"Okay, let's go grab a pint of blood and move onto the
next topic. Brooding." Angel slapped Spike on the arm and grinned. Spike
looked down at the residual hair gel on his t-shirt and realized he could
technically still kill Angel. He could. Maybe after the pint of blood.

****

"Thanks, Cordelia," Angel said to, well,
obviously, he said it to Cordelia, who had just served them fresh mugs of warm
blood. Spike watched as Cordy and Angel kept making googly eyes at each other.
Cor, it was disgusting to look at. Is that what he did with Buffy? Did they
have zero chemistry like those two? And what had she done to her hair?

"Mmm, with a hint of cinammon, just the way I like it.
Thanks, Cordy," Angel said, smiling up at her.

"You're welcome. And it's very nice to see you,
Spike," Cordy said nicely before floating away. The back of her shirt
said, "I'm A Champion. Ask Me How!" in bright gold letters.

Spike sighed and tried. He thought about Angel and Cordelia
in a romantic capacity and it worked. He got bored as hell. They worked for a
good hour on brooding.

Spike looked at his watch. It was getting late, and he had
to get back home. Angel was babbling about feeling compassion for his fellow
man and forming bonds and yada yada yada, when suddenly a pale bespectacled man
with a brace on his neck walked in. Angel suddenly vamped out and, grabbing a
pillow off a couch, flew at the guy.

"You fucker! I'm gonna kill you this time!
ARGH!!!" Angel screamed while he smothered the poor defenseless guy with
the pillow. Spike found himself tearing Angel off the guy, which wasn't an easy
feat considering Angel had put on a few pounds since he had moved to L.A.

"Hey, hey! Calm the hell down! You're getting spit
everywhere, mate!" Spike said, shoving Angel to the other side of the
room. "And what about all that compassion, forming bonds, blah blah
humanity cakes??"

"He took my baby! And now my baby is trapped in a hell
dimension!!" Angel roared angrily. Spike tilted his head to one side.
Angel was so much more fun to be around when he was like this, but still, he
felt bad for the guy lying on the floor. Then he paused.

"Wait, what? You have a child? Does Buffy know?"

"Who?" Angel said. Spike threw his hands in the
air in disgust.

"Right, then. I give up! You're no help to me, Angel.
This place is crazy. Come on." Spike gave the guy with the neck issues a
hand up. "Let's get you home."

"AAARRGGH!!" Angel began hitting Wesley over the
head with a pillow. Fred and Gunn came traipsing down the stairs shoving
pancakes in each others' mouths and then shouting "Pancake kiss!"
when they heard the commotion.

"OOH! Pillow fight! Yay!" Fred babbled before
grabbing a pillow and hitting Wesley with it too. Spike and Wesley ran out the
door, and Spike got him safely home. He drove back to Sunnydale as quick as he
could. So he didn't have the whole brooding, remorseful thing down. And his
hair couldn't stick straight up. Spike was going to do this whole soul thing
HIS way.

When every moment gets too hardAnd though the road can feel so farNo matter how much time we're apartI'm always near youI'll be the shelter in your rainHelp you to find your smile againI'll make you laugh at a broken heartWherever you are

When he got back to his crypt, Buffy was there, pacing
restlessly. He grinned when he saw here, suddenly realizing one good thing
about having a soul.

"Oh, I don't know. Around here we just assume stupid
things until proven otherwise." Buffy flew into Spike's arms and hugged
him, and then kneed him in the groin.

"OW! What the bloody 'ell was that for?"

"For making me scared for you! I care about your
well-being Spike. Do you realize how ridiculous that is? You're a bad man. A
bad, evil, albeit exceptionally well-endowed, THING. And here I am worried to
death about you because I couldn't find you all night." Her mouth pouted
and tears fell down her cheek.

"Aw, pet, you wouldn't believe me if I told you where I
was, what happened to me."

"Yeah, yeah, cut the jabber, I have sexual needs that
only you can fill." Buffy flung herself on top of Spike.

"No, wait. I have to tell you something. I, uh, I have
a soul now."

"How nice," Buffy said, ribbing his fugly shirt
off him and licking his cool bare neck like a lollipop.

Spike tried to continue. "I made a wish on a loose
eyelash, and instead of, you know, wishing for world peace, or Dawn to be dead,
I bloody wished I had a soul, and..."

"Oh. My. God," Buffy whispered. "It's true.
You are so totally on the road to redemption."

Spike grinned. "Told ya! So... maybe... y'know, one
day, if I do a lot of good deeds and help poor wankers out and, uh, you know,
not kill anyone, maybe we could go out sometime?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "You mean, like on a
date?"

Spike shrugged. "Well. Yeah. Wanna do this right. I
love you, Buffy. Always 'ave. I'll show you I'm worthy. But I'd like to get to
know you. You Buffy. Not you the Slayer. And if I may quote the illustrious Amy
Grant:

"I'm never gonna walk awayIf the walls come down somedayAll alone and you feel afraidI'll be there when you call my nameYou can always depend on meI believeUntil forever endsI will be your friend."

"Oh, Spike!" Buffy gushed, running to him as
christian rock music swelled around them. They hugged platonically and went out
for a friendly game of mini golf, under the light of a lovely full moon.

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